I flove you, babe
Should I assume everyone knows what the word ‘flove’ means? It’s always been one of my favourite words—so full of pure, raw emotion. A word used when ‘love’ just isn’t enough.
So how do you know when the characters in a book flove each other? Well, it’s not when they’re sitting in a field of wildflowers, gazing tenderly into each other’s eyes. Those big long monologues consisting of 101-reasons-why-you’re-the-one-for-me don’t cut it either. What about when the man kneels and pulls out a ring? 
Nope.
Flove, in my opinion, is that moment where you’re not sure whether you want to kiss someone or kill them. The moment when you realize you just might hate this person, but you’d be willing to sacrifice your heart and soul for them. It’s an extreme that’s almost more than you can bear. Flove leaves you feeling such violent emotions you feel like you’ve been beaten to a pulp on the inside.
True love is rare, but flove is almost nonexistent in real life. Which is a good thing, as far as I’m concerned. Letting anyone in that deep scares the hell out of me, but it’s fun to fantasize about. Kinda like being an assassin or having super powers. The repercussions in reality would make both much less appealing than they seem in fiction. Because while true love isn’t always rational, flove can be insane.
To name two movies where I would consider the romance flove, I would have to pick Pride and Prejudice (works for the book too 
) and Ten Things I Hate About You. There’s nothing quite so thrilling to watch as two people falling in love and then telling each other to go to hell. That’s real flove!
